


Through A Mirror Darkly

by Arcadias_Fire



Series: Iterations of the Infinite Reflection [6]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Consensual Possession, Horror, Imprisonment, M/M, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Mirrors, POV First Person, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadias_Fire/pseuds/Arcadias_Fire
Summary: It was a long time before I realized that it was weird to have your reflection talk to you. I’d made up all these things in my head which explained why my reflection was different. He mostly looked like me, while everyone else’s reflection looked like themselves. I figured that everyone had that too. My mum’s reflection must have black hair when she looked at herself, but everyone else saw her as blonde in the mirror. That’s how it worked for me, so that must be true of everyone.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Loki
Series: Iterations of the Infinite Reflection [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1142612
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Through A Mirror Darkly

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand-alone story. 
> 
> Happy Halloween Everyone!

I remember the first time I asked about the other boy. I couldn’t have been any older than two or three. There was a long mirror in the corner of my room, and my mum came in while I was looking at it. 

“Who’s that?” I asked.    


  
She came over to the mirror. I could see her reflection above mine. “That’s you, sweetie,” she told me. 

I frowned. I was pretty sure it  _ wasn’t _ me in the mirror, but she seemed so certain. “Are you sure?” 

Mum laughed. “Of course I am.” She reached down and patted my head, just as her reflection touched the other boy’s head. “See?” 

I knew she was wrong, but I couldn’t explain why. “It’s not.” 

“No?” 

I shook my head. “Not me.” 

“Then it must be your imaginary friend.” 

I remember thinking that Mum must be teasing, but I knew that she was right, despite that. “Oh, okay.” 

Mum ruffled my hair and left the room. 

“She can’t see me, you know,” the boy in the mirror said once she was gone. “She just sees you.” 

“Why?” I asked. 

The other boy shrugged. “I don’t want her to.” 

“Why?” I asked again. 

The other boy smiled at me. “Because I want you to myself.” 

“Oh. Why?” 

“Because you’re my best friend, that’s why.” 

I smiled. I’d never had a best friend before. “I like that.” 

“Good.” 

o0o

It was a long time before I realized that it was weird to have your reflection talk to you. I’d made up all these things in my head which explained why my reflection was different. He  _ mostly _ looked like me, while everyone else’s reflection looked like themselves. I figured that everyone had that too. My mum’s reflection must have black hair when she looked at herself, but everyone else saw her as blonde in the mirror. That’s how it worked for me, so that must be true of everyone. 

I knew to not talk to the other boy when people were around, since they gave me funny looks. I remember Mum and Dad saying that I talked to myself too much, and they were worried. Of course I wasn’t talking to myself, I was talking to the other boy. He must sound like me to everyone else, but he didn’t sound like me to  _ me. _ I knew that kind of thing happened. My older sister had a tape recorder that she played with. When I heard my voice played back, it sounded like the other boy. I suppose all children have something like that. An explanation that fits the facts, but doesn’t actually make any sense. 

Eventually I realized that I was weird. Everyone else’s reflections looked like themselves. Nobody had long conversations with another self in the mirror. It was just me. I thought I must be mad. 

“Am I mental?” We were sitting on the floor on either side of the mirror, talking like we usually did. “Are you just a figment of my imagination?” 

The other boy smiled at me. “Of course not. I’m just as real as you are.” 

“But… Why can nobody but me see you?” 

“Magic.” 

“Magic? Really?” I reached out and touched the surface of my mirror. He reached out at the same time - he always did - and I could almost feel his fingers through the glass. “Why me then?” 

“Because I love you, that’s why,” he replied. “I’m supposed to be here with you, so I am.” 

“Oh.” I blushed. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. That he loved me. I was thirteen, so I knew that there was more than one thing that might mean. My mum and dad loved me. My sisters loved me. But the other kids at school would tease someone by saying that they “loved” their crush. “What do you mean?” 

“What do you want it to mean?” He shifted closer to the surface, and I felt myself do the same. “I can be anything you want.” 

He sat up and leaned in towards the glass. I did the same. I knew that I was moving because he was. He’d never done that before. I moved  _ him _ not the other way around. Part of me was screaming. He shouldn’t be able to control me _. _ But I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t pull back. My hands pressed against his through the glass. 

“What do you want?” he asked. His voice was so soft. “Let me in.” 

I tore away from the mirror. My hands coming away from the glass sounded a tree limb breaking. I stumbled back and fell on my arse. 

“No, I don’t… No.” I scrambled up and ran from the room. I didn’t know why I was so afraid. Nothing happened, but it…  _ he _ had controlled me. 

I stopped looking at him. He called out to me, but I ignored him. When he started crying every time I walked past a mirror, it broke my heart, but I had to stay away. 

I went off to school shortly after that. I was surrounded by other boys.  _ Normal _ boys. With normal reflections. He was still there, but he kept quiet. 

Years passed. He was always there, but he didn’t try to talk to me. Honestly I don’t know what I would have done if my reflection started looking more like me. If I saw curly blond hair instead of straight black. He was my silent companion. Sometimes I wondered if I should talk to him again. He always looked so sad. But I was terrified that he would try and take over again. 

Then my first boyfriend broke up with me. It was bound to happen. We were both headed off to uni, but to different schools. I’d clung to the idea that we could still stay together. That we could at least try a long distance relationship. But no. He wanted to go off to Oxford with no ties. Date girls. 

I’m not ashamed to say that I spent an hour crying in the bath. He was my first love, and it ended far before I wanted it to. 

“Are you alright?” 

I looked up to see the other boy - man? - looking down at me. I hadn’t heard his voice in five years. He still looked sad, but also concerned. 

I thought for a long moment. “No.” 

“I’m sorry. You deserve better.” 

I didn’t question how he knew what happened. “Thanks.” 

“Can I help?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

I heard him sigh. “I’m here if you need me.” 

“Thanks.” 

That broke the stalemate. I started acknowledging him again. We still didn’t talk, but I didn’t ignore him any longer. 

Uni was mad. I worked like I’d never worked before. I started doing plays in between lectures. I somehow managed to fit in a few relationships. My first girlfriend played Juliet against my Romeo. 

“You’re good at this.” 

I was taking my makeup off in the loo after a performance. “You think?” 

The man in the mirror nodded. “Yes. You have a real talent for this.” 

I blushed, though I couldn’t have said why. “Thanks.” 

He grinned at me. “Of course.” 

I think that conversation was half the reason I went to RADA. But he was right. I loved it. I knew I’d probably never be a leading man, but that was fine. Real people with real problems appealed to me so much more. 

When I auditioned for Thor, he laughed at me. “Do you really think you can put on that much muscle? To play a thunder god?” 

I gave him the two finger salute, which of course meant he did the same to me. “I’ll never know until I try. Besides, Ken’s a friend. It’ll be fun.” 

He snickered, but left me alone after that. 

Of course, I wasn’t hired to play Thor. The man in the mirror had been right. I looked ridiculous. I’m too thin - even with all the extra muscle - to pull it off. But they did give me a part. 

When they dyed and straightened my hair, it was so odd. Finally,  _ finally _ my appearance matched the way I looked to myself in the mirror. The makeup helped even more. The man in the mirror looked a bit thinner most of the time, his skin a shade more pale than my own. 

I stood in the trailer by myself. I couldn’t stop smiling. 

“You look amazing,” he told me. “I’ve never seen you look so good.” 

“I just properly look like you now.” 

He grinned. “Your point?” 

I laughed and left for the set. 

I never felt him when I was away from a mirror, but intellectually I knew he was there. He knew everything about my life, so he must be around or able to read my mind. Now I could feel him. Right behind my eyes. I looked like him, so now I  _ was _ him. It probably should have frightened me, to have him so close, but it didn’t. It felt right. 

When I said my lines, it was him speaking. Him moving my body, rather than me. 

It felt amazing. He held me from the inside out, like a lover, but closer. What could possibly be more intimate? He was inside me, coming to the surface, while I sunk into him. We mingled while the words flowed. 

When I went back to my trailer, I stared at him in the mirror. “Why is this happening?” 

“I told you a long time ago, I love you.” 

“But…” 

“Shhh…” He leaned in, drawing me with him. This time I didn’t fight it. It had been over a decade since that first time, and I’d learned so much. Our hands touched through the mirror, but he didn’t stop there. When I kissed the glass surface, real, soft, lips met mine, not cold silver. I couldn’t say how long we kissed, but after the intimacy of  _ being _ on another, it wasn’t enough. 

“You want more?” he whispered. “There can be more.” 

“Please.” 

I couldn’t tell you what happened in that moment. It felt like the best orgasm I’d ever had in my life, but multiplied. Like I could feel him feeling me, feeling him, over and over. When it was over…

“Is this what you had in mind?” he asked with a smile. 

“What?” I looked around. Everything was different. There was no scent, no stir in the air. It took me far too long to realize what was wrong.  _ He _ was in the loo while  _ I _ was in the mirror. 

“What did you do?” 

He leaned in and smiled, arms over his chest. I followed his every move. I couldn’t help it. “You were right to be afraid of me, all those years ago.” 

I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t. I was frozen, arms over my chest, just like him. “What did you do?” I screamed. “What did you do to me?” 

He laughed. It was dark and evil. “What I tried to do to you all those years ago. Now you are trapped in the mirror, not me. You’ll only see what I chose you to see.” He stepped away, forcing me to do the same. “Have fun.” 

And he left. 

I rushed to the glass, slamming my hands against the surface. Now that he was gone, I could move, but not beyond the bounds of the mirror. I was trapped and alone. 

Until this moment, I’d never been alone. He’d always been with me, even if I didn’t know it at the time. 

It felt like days until he returned. I couldn’t sleep. I got hungrier and hungrier, but there was no food. All I could do was pace.

When he came back, it was like color returned to the world. I could smell and taste again. I wasn’t hungry or tired anymore. But I could only move when he did. 

“Where have you been?” 

He grinned at me. “I’ve been doing your job. And I’ve been doing a damned fine job of it.” He took a bite of the curry I’d been staring at all evening. “And how have you been? Bored yet?” 

“Yes, damn you. Let me out!” 

He leaned in close to the mirror, grinning. “Make me.” 

I screamed at him, but he laughed and walked away. 

Our days went like that for so long. I would plead with him to let me out, and he would laugh. 

As filming came to an end, he looked more and more drawn. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“I…” He walked up to the glass. “I don’t know if I can stay out here once we’re done filming.” 

Part of me wanted to laugh in his face. He’d taken over my life, trapped me in a dark dimension for weeks. But now I knew what his life was like. 

“Maybe we can come to an arrangement,” I suggested. 

He looked up, eyebrow raised. “What do you have in mind?” 

“We can switch back and forth, trade time in here vs out there.” 

“Why should I trust you on this? I trapped you in there.” 

I nodded. “But that’s part of why I’m offering. I know this is horrible, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. You’ve been with me my whole life.” I put my hand against the glass the same moment he did. It felt like we both did it, not one of us controlling the other. “You know me. Would I lie to you about this?” 

He leaned his forehead against the glass, and so did I. “No. No you wouldn’t lie to me.” He sighed. “Very well.” 

Again, we kissed through the glass and swapped places. It felt so good to breathe proper air again. I’d been thirsty for so long that I downed a whole liter bottle of water in a few seconds. 

“You’ll keep our agreement,” he said from the glass. “You’ll let me out again.” 

I turned and smiled. “Of course I will. We’ve been in this together for thirty years.” I put my hand on the mirror again, his meeting mine. “My life isn’t complete without you.” 

“Good.” He smiled. A warm smile, not sly and cruel. “We can do this.” 

I returned the smile. “We can.” I leaned in to kiss him again. The kiss was soft, and when it was over, we were still where we belonged. 

“We can do this.” 

And we did. 

**Author's Note:**

> No I'm not dead. Or sick. Or in jail. 2020 has not been kind to me, but I'm still here. 
> 
> On a lighter note, I was finally able to work "consensual possession" into another story! Woo!


End file.
